


Ours

by Oparu



Series: Coffee in Bed [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-26
Updated: 2011-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oparu/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having just moved in together, Beverly and Kathryn learn to share responsibilities and <strike>Beverly's</strike> their cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Touchdownpossum asked for Beverly to do something ungraceful and kindly donated to helpbrazil2011 on livejournal. Many thanks!!

Stepping over the cat, who lies stretched out on the bathroom floor as if he's imitating a rug in cat form, Beverly hangs her robe over the edge of the sonic shower and steps in.

It lights up blue as it comes on, humming as it lifts the dirt and oil from her skin. She runs her fingers through her hair, shaking it out so the sonic waves will hit the strands evenly. If she's efficient getting dressed, she'll have time to get breakfast on the table while Kathryn puts her hair up. She turns around once, then content that she's clean, she shuts off the shower and reaches for her robe. Beverly has it half on as she steps out. She takes another step and unleashes hell.

Da Vinci shrieks in pain and pulls his tail from beneath her foot. Streaking out of the bathroom in a grey line of pain and indignity, he vanishes into the living room.

"Oh honey," she sighs sympathetically. "You poor thing. I'm so sorry."

Kathryn emerges from the bedroom, still in her pyjamas with her eyes wide with shock. "Did you kill something?"

"I stepped on the cat."

"I thought cats were a quiet pet."

Beverly ignores Kathryn's look of disapproval and heads into the living room. She has to make sure that Da Vinci's all right. She can't just let him hide in the corner and sulk over an injured tail. He's probably fine, but she won't take the risk.

"They are if you don't step on them."

Yawning into her hand, Kathryn retreats into the bedroom, which is still piled high with her boxes of belongings she has yet to unpack.

"Maybe you shouldn't step on your cat."

Beverly puts her hands on her hips and resists the urge to glare. Kathryn agreed they were both too busy for a dog. She thought the huge grey cat was acceptable and even suggested that they name him after her historical idol. That was the end of her involvement with the cat. Beverly feeds him, keeps an eye on him so he doesn't eat all of her houseplants and talks to him. She loves having him around, and Kathryn's a little dubious.

Beverly almost glad she's the one that stepped on him, not Kathryn. Crouching down on the floor in her robe, Beverly peers under the sofa and coffee table, then heads for the kitchen. It's a large enough apartment for two people, but there aren't that many places for a cat to hide. He's not consoling himself with food, so she checks the spare bedroom, even looking under the bed, but no sign of him.

It's possible he has somewhere else to hide, but she can't think of it. Returning to the kitchen, she gives up on cooking and replicates croissants, jam, butter, tangerines and coffee. Leaving most of it on the counter, she takes coffee into the bedroom and sets a cup in front of Kathryn.

"Did you find your cat?" Kathryn asks over her shoulder. Her hair's halfway up, and Beverly watches for a moment, naughtily thinking of home much fun it is to pull down.

"The Maestro's sulking somewhere, poor thing." Beverly leans against her dresser and sips her coffee. She's into her office half an hour after Kathryn; both of their start times are self-assigned. Kathryn just likes assigning herself something that much earlier. She also comes home later, which is a habit Beverly's going to have to help her break if this experiment is going to continue.

Beverly runs her fingers lazily through her own hair, checks it in the mirror, and leaves it. Setting her coffee down, she turns to her own mirror and cheekily lets her robe fall to floor. She hums a bit, lazily selecting panties and a bra, even though she nearly always wears the same type under her uniform. As if choosing between grey and black matters, she takes her time. She's just clasped her bra around her back when she notices Kathryn watching her in the mirror.

Pretending she's seen nothing, Beverly sips her coffee, eases her breasts into her bra after toying with them and starts looking for the first layer of her uniform. Kathryn's eyes are inexplicably still on her breasts so she puts on her trousers instead. Beverly can't help enjoying the level of attention directed her way, and, in one of the better uses of her acting talent, she spills coffee down the front of her chest.

It's hot, stingingly so, and she jumps back from her dresser. "Dammit! Dammit, dammit."

Kathryn leaves her chair and retrieves a towel from the top of one of the crates of not yet unpacked things. "Are you all right?"

"It was hot." It was hotter than Beverly suspected, and her pain isn't entirely feigned. Kathryn's genuinely sympathetic, but Beverly can't resist chiding her a little. "So you're not entirely without empathy?"

Kathryn stops patting the coffee off of Beverly's bare chest and looks up, surprised. "What?"

"I spill coffee on myself and you care. The poor little-"

"He's not little-"

"Cat has his tail stepped on and you don't care."

"He's a cat."

"Cats don't feel pain?"

Kathryn narrows her eyebrows and sighs. "Yes, they feel pain."

Beverly snaps off her coffee-soaked bra and drops it in the laundry. "You don't feel at all bad for him?"

"He's just a cat, Beverly."

"He's our cat. Which makes him far more than just a cat. He's someone we are collectively responsible for."

"Are you going to make me apologise to the hydrangeas too when we cut them?"

"Cutting them is far different than subjecting them to drought or torturing them without enough light."

Kathryn puts her hands on her hips. "I have never tortured your houseplants."

" _Our_ houseplants. They're ours now. Just like Da Vinci."

Glancing down to collect herself, Kathryn's eyes fall entirely on Beverly's naked breasts and she can't bring her head up without smiling.

"You're the first lover I've had ever lecture me half-naked."

Reaching for her cheek, Beverly strokes it, smiling. "If you'd be a little more sympathetic to the weaker beings, I wouldn't have to lecture you, half-naked or not."

"So if I'm nice to your- our cat, I can have you completely naked?"

Beverly rests her hands on the zipper of her uniform trousers and shrugs playfully. "I think that could be arranged."

Kathryn guides her towards the bed, taking off her own uniform trousers as they go. One or both of them might be late, but they haven't been late yet. To be fair, it has only been three days since Kathryn moved in, but Beverly's giving them credit for many years of being on time already served. Kathryn nuzzles her chest, kissing, then licking the last of the coffee from Beverly's skin. She works her way across to a rosy nipple, which Beverly knows is free from coffee, but draws it in to her mouth anyway.

Beverly gets her revenge by taking down Kathryn's hair. Kathryn tosses it back in annoyance then kisses her way down Beverly's stomach. Beverly's panties would no longer match her bra, so she doesn't mind seeing them go. Kathryn nuzzles her way down Beverly's bare thigh, then up the other. Beverly tries not to squirm but Kathryn holds her down anyway.

"Is this some kind of Pavlov's dog experiment?" Kathryn asks breathily, stealing a pillow and planting it neatly beneath Beverly's bottom. "I'm nice to the cat, I get sex, I'm not nice to the cat--"

Beverly props herself up on her elbows and sighs. "I lack the commitment to withhold sex when you're not nice to our cat, so it's more a plea for your understanding, and so you'll feel guilty."

"Because if I'm not nice to the cat I'll put you through hell because you'll have to avoid having sex with me?" Kathryn's grin turns wicked.

Beverly drops back to the bed and stares helplessly up at the ceiling. "Yes--" The wet heat of Kathryn's mouth descends on her and talking, even finishing sounds of the word on her lips, is a lost cause. She fists her hands in the cover of the duvet and rocks her hips up to meet Kathryn's incredible mouth and fingers. Kathryn starts gently, growing more insistent until Beverly bucks and writhes beneath her, gasping and seeing stars in the air between her head and the ceiling.

Kathryn crawls up, incredibly, and rightfully, pleased with herself as she curls into Beverly's side. Beverly could almost fall back asleep, were it not for the buzzing in her head and the waves of pleasure washing through her body. Time is off the essence, so she sits up, bends Kathryn's hands back to the bed, and kisses her. Tasting herself makes her smirk, and Beverly rubs her thigh wickedly against Kathryn's aroused and anxious sex. Bringing Beverly to orgasm always puts Kathryn on the needy brink of her own. There's something incredibly sweet about it, and Beverly can't resist taunting her.

Kathryn had more of her uniform on than Beverly did, and she'll have to redress in a hurry. That's entirely not Beverly's concern, and she takes her time easing Kathryn's breasts out of her bra. It was the grey version, so they would have matched, had Beverly not had to sacrifice hers to the coffee gods and making her point. She toys with one breast, then the other, all but ignoring the rest of Kathryn's body until she sits up and nearly bites Beverly's lip as they kiss.

Chastised, Beverly makes her way down the smooth muscle and the slight roundness of Kathryn's stomach. She detours up Kathryn's thigh, then meets her clit at an angle with her tongue. Kathryn's desperate gasp for more coincides with a hand grabbing Beverly's upper arm and the slight rocking of her hips. Keeping her tongue flat and gentle, Beverly trails one finger down Kathryn's wet, swollen labia, and teases her way into the heat of her vagina. Curling her finger up, she increases the pressure of her tongue on Kathryn's clit. Beverly adds a second finger when Kathryn's breathing goes ragged, and rather wickedly puts Kathryn's clit between her tongue and her lower lip until the twisting of Kathryn's hips makes it impossible to hold her down.

She comes with an indignant little cry, as if she were trying to avoid succumbing and lost, utterly. Beverly nuzzles her quivering thigh and crawls up to hold her tight. When they're settled: ignoring breakfast, letting their coffee go cold, and not getting dressed, Beverly notices Da Vinci, contently sprawled on the top of one Kathryn's crates.

He's just finishing washing his tail, something that she knows takes him awhile, and he's obviously been there for the show.

She smirks into the back of Kathryn's head, then finally giggles.

Kathryn rolls over, eyeing her with mock suspicion. "There's nothing funny about being late for work."

Stroking Kathryn's hair, Beverly nods, and kisses her cheek, still giggling. "No, no, of course not."

"And?"

Beverly sits up and indicates the cat, who seems entirely content that his humans enjoy each other's company so much.

Kathryn stares at him, caught somewhere between embarrassed and bizarrely impressed. "He's been sitting there?"

"For quite awhile."

She studies Beverly, who's still giggling, starts to say something, and ends up laughing along with her. "You were so worried that I had no empathy for the Maestro. Why didn't you mention he was a voyeur?"

"He's been neutered! He has no interest in sex."

"In sex with other cats, sure, but he seems to like to watch."

"He doesn't know it's sex."

As if arguing that yes, he certainly does, Da Vinci begins to purr. Kathryn takes that as a sign, and Beverly kisses her before she can frown.

"We're shutting the bedroom door from now on."

"I didn't even know he was in here." Beverly reluctantly leaves the bed and starts getting dressed.

"You looked everywhere else."

"I couldn't look behind your things."

Kathryn tosses a sock towards Beverly and rolls her eyes as she pulls on her panties again. "Are you suggesting if I unpack, Da Vinci won't be able to watch an encore?"

"Well, we might be able to if tell he's in here." Beverly pauses, half into her uniform, and walks over to scratch his furry, still purring head. "I doubt it harmed him to watch."

"Harmed him?!?"

"You have performance anxiety in front of a cat?" Beverly ducks another sock tossed in her direction and retreats to her side of the room. "None of your dogs ever walked in on you?"

Kathryn sighs, tying her hair up in a simple ponytail. "You know, right after we got together, Molly once got into the bedroom and tried to bite Mark."

Giggling, Beverly circles the crates and wraps her arms around Kathryn's waist. "A little empathetic?"

"Overprotective. I think it was the idea of him being on top of me more than any sounds I was making."

"Da Vinci didn't mind me being on top of you."

Kathryn turns in her arms, studying the cat with new respect. "He didn't, did he?"

"He approved."

"Well then." Kathryn addresses the cat, still snuggled in Beverly's arms. "Maestro, thank you for your kind attention, however, since this is something Beverly and I can manage for ourselves, we won't require your supervision again."

Beverly smirks, watching the cat close his eyes and settle in for a nap.

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a 'put away the crates and I'll sleep in the living room the next time you have sex'."

"How do you know?"

"I know." Beverly pulls back. "He's my--"

" _Our_ cat."

"Really?"

"If he's watching us have sex, he'd better be ours. I'd hate to think what he'll do if he decides I'm not pulling my weight in bed."

Kissing her way along Kathryn's cheek towards her lips, Beverly chuckles. "I don't think he'd ever accuse you of that."


End file.
